"Well, if it isn't Madam Huo, what brings you out doing your own shopping?"
Just as Huo Yuhao was staring blankly at the Buddha Candy in his hand, a frivolous and sarcastic voice rang out, followed by a flurry of hurried and panicked footsteps.
"Madam Huo, you are a woman of noble birth after all. How could you possibly need to go out shopping yourself like the likes of us servants? The next time you need to stock up on anything, just let us servants handle it."
The voice did not soften as the footsteps drew closer, but instead grew even more unbridled. Huo Yuhao frowned, tucked the Buddha Candy into his tunic, and with a few nimble leaps, scrambled up onto the eaves of the roof.
"Dai Shiliu, get out of my way."
Huo Yun'er's voice rang out with a hint of anger. Cradled in her arms was a package of ingredients wrapped in oil paper, and her expression was quite grim. Blocking her path was a burly man dressed in short work attire with a flat-top haircut. A strange, mocking grin hung on the man's face, yet he did not dare to step forward, clearly restrained by something as he simply stood in Huo Yun'er's way.
"Oh come now, Madam Huo, you're doing this lowly one a grave injustice. This lowly one was simply worn out from carrying supplies and stopped here to catch his breath. How could I possibly be blocking your path?"
"Besides, these narrow paths are strictly for the likes of us underlings to come and go. This is hardly a place for a lady of your status to walk. If I may suggest, perhaps you should head for the West Gate. By all accounts, the female members of the Dai household are supposed to use the West Gate."
Huo Yun'er's face turned icy at Dai Shiliu's words, a wave of grievance welling up in her heart, though she refused to let a trace of it show in her eyes.
Such was life within the deep courtyards of a great noble estate. Direct, head-on confrontations were rare; instead, as long as it wasn't the supreme ruler of the Dai household, anyone who spoke with you could easily have a hidden blade buried in their words.
Even if you were stabbed by those blades and left bleeding, you had to swallow it down. Under no circumstances could you let the blood show on your face, or you would plummet from grace, leaving yourself vulnerable to anyone and everyone who wanted to step on you while you were down.
Why did Huo Yun'er have to venture out to shop for provisions herself? Naturally, it was because she had been ostracized within the Dai household. She didn't even have a single servant she could order around, forcing her to handle everything herself, right down to guarding her monthly allowance against embezzlement by the mistress of the house.
After all, that very same mistress had pulled such stunts before, using Huo Yun'er's supposed affliction with a contagious disease as an excuse to banish mother and son to the woodshed behind the servants' quarters, while cutting off all their sources of financial support. Huo Yuhao had been only two years old at the time.
Fortunately, the Duke was away from the estate, but he had left behind a fiercely loyal old steward. To ensure that the Duke's bloodline wouldn't inexplicably lose a branch, the old steward—despite barely knowing Huo Yun'er and Huo Yuhao—frequently stepped in to protect them and fought to secure the allowance that rightfully belonged to Huo Yun'er.
It was precisely because of this that Huo Yun'er chose the North Gate—which servants typically used—rather than the West Gate meant for the women of the household when she went out to shop. Little did she expect that the more low-profile she tried to be, the easier it was to draw trouble upon herself.
*Whoosh!*
The sound of something tearing through the air rang out, and the next moment, Dai Shiliu suddenly clutched his head and let out a miserable screech.
"Aargh!"
A flash of anger crossed Dai Shiliu's eyes, but it was instantly replaced by panic. The insolent expression on his face vanished, replaced by submissive flattery. In the span of a single turn, his previously straight spine bent double, his gaze cast downward as his shifty eyes darted about, trying to figure out which young master of the estate was playing a prank on him.
"Ow!"
Another small stone struck Dai Shiliu squarely on the forehead. The sharp pebble instantly split his skin, drawing a stream of blood. Even so, with not a single shadow of a person in sight, Dai Shiliu didn't dare say another word. He frantically wiped at the wound with the linen cloth draped over his shoulder, too terrified to cause any more trouble for Huo Yun'er, and fled the scene in a sorry state.
On the roof beam off to Huo Yun'er's Right Hand, a faintly shimmering boy held several small stones he had clearly just picked up off the ground, looking thoughtfully at the fleeing figure of Dai Shiliu.
"The effect of the Gachihi Buddha Candy is still remarkably useful. While I'm not sure if it could fool powerful Soul Masters, it's more than enough for bullying ordinary people..."
The boy was none other than Huo Yuhao. At this moment, his mind was deep in thought as he muttered to himself.
A glowing red dot was currently fixed precisely on the back of Dai Shiliu's neck, stirring a restless impulse in Huo Yuhao's heart.
This was the marker for a Shinobi Execution. Against anyone who wasn't a peerless powerhouse, a single Shinobi Execution was enough for Huo Yuhao to claim an enemy's life. Against purely ordinary people like Dai Shiliu, even without the Kusabimaru in hand, Huo Yuhao was confident he could easily snap the man's neck using nothing more than this six-year-old body.
"No, for Dai Shiliu to carry the surname Dai, he must be a rather favored servant within the Dai household; otherwise, he wouldn't be allowed to use the surname at all. Striking him down rashly could bring trouble for me and Mother..."
A flash of contemplation appeared in Huo Yuhao's eyes. The temptation of a Shinobi Execution to a shinobi like him was immense. After all, the appearance of the execution marker largely meant he could bypass a brutal, grueling battle. He had almost developed a conditioned reflex—the moment he saw a red dot, he wanted to strike.
Because sometimes, if you hesitated and missed the window, the enemy's posture would instantly recover, meaning all your previous efforts would be wasted.
Indeed, the Shinobi Execution marker would not only appear when enemies were completely unguarded and exposed their backs; powerful enemies often possessed immense posture themselves, granting them tremendous strength, speed, and precise defense.
As the battle dragged on, the more wounds Huo Yuhao inflicted upon the enemy, the faster their posture would break.
When the enemy's body was covered in battle scars and wounds deep enough to expose bone, they usually lacked the strength to swing their weapons any longer, and the Shinobi Execution marker would follow. In that split second, the absolute best moment for a Shinobi Execution arrived.
Never entertain the delusion of dragging a fight out; seizing every opportunity to execute the enemy was always the optimal choice.
Huo Yuhao had once tried the strategy of inflicting massive injuries on an enemy and bleeding them dry, right up until the moment he crossed paths with the samurai general named Yamauchi Shigenori.
The secret technique that allowed the man to rapidly recover a massive amount of posture in mere seconds left Huo Yuhao dumbfounded on the spot, followed immediately by a sweeping slash and a leg sweep that cleaved him into pieces right then and there.
Watching Dai Shiliu's figure recede into the distance until the Shinobi Execution marker behind his neck finally vanished, Huo Yuhao let out a regretful sigh. Although he had only spent a year in that world—a mere sixth of his six years of life—the memories of the former had cut far deeper.
The air was constantly saturated with the stench of sulfur, gunpowder, and fresh blood. Crying, shouting, and roaring were the only melodies.
Corpses everywhere—filthy corpses, blood-soaked corpses, shattered corpses. People were killing everywhere, dying everywhere. Having lived in that kind of environment for a full year, Huo Yuhao had yet to truly adapt to this peaceful era.
Compared to that mad world, which resembled an Asura battlefield, the struggles right before his eyes felt as laughable as children playing house.